


tight knit

by lesbianedgeworth



Category: Persona 4, Persona Series
Genre: Gen, He/Him Pronouns For Shirogane Naoto, M/M, Trans Shirogane Naoto, assorted shenanigans and such
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 23:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30063411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianedgeworth/pseuds/lesbianedgeworth
Summary: the fox has a wish to grant, and naoto is the smartest person kanji knows. these two facts are related.(originally written for bent up! a kanji tatsumi zine)
Relationships: Naoto Shirogane/Tatsumi Kanji (implied)
Kudos: 11





	tight knit

**Author's Note:**

> there are still extra copies of this zine for sale! https://kanji-zine.tumblr.com/

Right.

So.

“You’re prolly busy, right, but if you wanted to go out with mmm—” Wait. “Aw _fuck no_ why’d I say it li--"

Like THAT. Try again.

Kanji growls, glares at one of Naoto’s fancy clocks for good measure. It ticks back, stone cold AND more expensive than most shit in Kanji’s own room put together… prolly. He can spot good workmanship kilometers off, and you coulda yanked this joint straight out a period piece. The kinds’a movies where the women wear _petticoats_ and the men wear _monocles_ and say snooty shit like OH HOH and oh, man, should he have been sittin’ on that chair? That’s… velvet.

That’s good velvet.

That’s.

Is that _pure silk?_

“Tatsumi-san?”

“AHWAITIMNOTRE— I mean, uh, yeah! Is Naoto-kun ready, too, uhh. Ready to talk yet?” Nice going, idiot. Now Naoto’s… butler… is gonna remember him as _that guy_ who _felt up a chair_. Kanji scrambles to his feet, hands glued to his sides, face heating up. Eurgh.

Prolly Naoto’s Butler doesn’t comment. “Naoto-sama is waiting in his room,” he says. “Head down the hall, back into the main entry-room. Then, take the second hallway to the right-- keep going until you reach the last door.”

“Yessir!”

“…Do you need me to repeat that for you?”

“Nossir!” Kanji lies. Wait. “I mean— yesss please? Ah heh.”

Prolly Naoto’s Butler repeats himself, and Kanji remembers his manners. Bows, gets the hell outta there, gaze trapped on carpet that’s _also_ prolly more expensive than he is. But that’s everythin’ in Naoto’s Rich Person… housemansion. Mansion house?

Man, ain’t this place supposed to be _temporary?_

Whatever.

Door to his room, right there.

“Eurgh,” Kanji says. But Naoto’s waitin’ for him, ain’t he? “Naoto? Your, uhh, butler? He SAID I could come in, so. Um.”

No response. ...Is he really in there?

“I’m just gonna come in!” Can’t go back on his words now, not without being the kinda guy who takes the cowards way out. In front of Naoto? Never. “On, uh, three?”

One.

Two.

Three--

_awfuckdammitcantbackoutjustgottapushinsideand_

“Kanji-kun?” Naoto asks, uncomfortably hatless. ‘S like the guy’s naked. “Is something the matter?”

Naoto’s room is pretty much how Kanji expected it to look, after the rest of the house: a fancy, squarish space roughly twice the size of Kanji’s own bedroom. Sorta plain compared to the sitting room, but _expensive_ plain.

The Shirogane’s, he thinks, prolly don’t have to worry about clutter.

Naoto’s a clean kinda guy, and it’s a clean kinda room, but not clean like he... spends a whole lotta time cleanin’? If Kanji tried, he could prolly mark out the exact line Naoto takes from the door to the work-desk (and his computer that makes Kanji and Ma’s old CRT look like shit) to the bed down to the centimeter, maybe with a few marks left over to the bookshelf that at the back of the room, or the dresser.

“Kanji-kun…?”

Engage, idiot. Kanji laughs instead of saying anything smart but he’s never gonna sound smart _so--_

\-- _anyway_! Naoto’s in front of his computer, prolly in the middle of some kinda Cool Detective Investigation. Text’s blown up big enough even Kanji can make out a little from the doorway, if he looks. Some kinda… message board?

_**gogogrey98 102k points 5 minutes ago** _

**_ > be you_ **

**_> fail to understand the role of pigeons character arc as it relates to feather red and the classic team composition_ **

**_> fucking choke_ **

**_d.tective 20 points 4 minutes ago_ **

**_HA. SHLD GO BACK TO SCHOOL & LEARN 2 READ. GREYS POOR MANS BLUE W/ BLACKS ARC   
& 0 PERSONALITY BSIDES ANGST & LEFT FIELD BUG DRAMA._ **

**_d.tective 20 points 0 minutes ago_ **

**_RESPONSE?_**

_SCREEEECH._

Naoto scoots his chair a little to the left. Cuts off Kanji’s view, glarin’. Abort.

“Nah, I was jus’. Did you not hear me?” Abort!! “How, uhh, how’ve you been? ‘S been a while.”

“We talked just this morning.”

“That’s… a long time! Anyway. What’re you up too? If you’re busy I’ll jus’—"

“No, I’m.” Naoto pulls a face, taps the backboard of the chair with busy fingers. He’s pretty much completely turned around now, facing Kanji. “I mean, of course it’s detective business. Very serious. You know how it is.”

“Didn’t know you could do detective-ing,” wait is that a word, “on, uhh. 3chan?”

“Reddit,” Naoto corrects. Blushes. “I mean! O-of course you can do… very mature… adult—” he pauses, deflates. “…no, I apologize. I should be more honest with you. This is the Featherman subreddit. I’m proving a point. For fun.”

“Oh,” Kanji says. “That’s cool?”

“No it isn’t! It’s a show for children, Kanji-kun.” Naoto sinks lower into his chair. “…objectively immature. I should drop it.”

_That ain’t right._

“Nah, I’m serious! You just gotta do you, Naoto. I mean, I get how you feel, but-- ‘s cool that you got interests! I got ‘em too, you know? You know I like sewin’, and knittin’, an’ cute shit like that.”

Kanji takes a few steps into the room, and man, keeping eye contact with Naoto’s _hard_ when his cheeks burnin’ something awful. What would Yu-senpai say.

“I’m not smart like you, but… I think… we gotta own up to our shit. Ummm--” Naoto’s starin’ at him. Kanji can’t tell if it’s a _good stare_ or a _get the hell out of my house freak_ kinda stare. But that balls already rollin’, _so,_ “pick your head up, man! Muster up summa that—” drawin’ a fuckin’ blank, “--burning passion?!”

“…Burning passion.”

Senpai wouldn’a said that. Gotta roll with the punches, Tatsumi. “Hell yeah!”

“H-hell yeah?” Naoto stares at him _._ “…Kanji-kun,” he chuckles. “I appreciate it. But I think we’ve been side-tracked. You need something, yes?”

Right.

“Don’t laugh at me, ‘kay?”

Naoto folds his hands over the edge of his chair (under his chin) and gives Kanji one of _those_ looks, the ones that make him feel like the stupidest guy in the world. “I wouldn’t laugh at you,” he says.

“The fox says I gotta grant a wish.”

“…What?”

“You know _,_ the fox!” Be hard to forget the adorable, price gouging little bastard, with the healing and the apron and the fuzzy ears and the

“I know the fox,” Naoto replies, slowly. “It doesn’t talk much.”

“Don’t think it has too,” Kanji says, raising his right arm: a neat row of needle-sharp teeth-marks lines the wrist _onetwothreefourfivesixseven_ and counting. Owch.

“Kanji-kun, are you…?!”

Naoto’s in his face before Kanji can blink, small hands wrapped around his— okay! Don’t be weird about it. Jus’ two bros... a few inches apart... cause they’re bros… “Has anybody looked at this yet!?” Naoto twists Kanji’s wrist back and forth, says, “Yakushiji-san can drive us to the hospital _,_ come on--"

It’d take someone a helluva lot larger than Shirogane Naoto to pull Kanji anywhere. Sure as shit couldn’t say the guy lacked _burning passion,_ though. “’S fine?” Please stop.

“You got bit by a fox!”

“A magic fox?”

“It could be diseased!”

“Uhhh...” That doesn’t sound right. “Magic diseases?”

Naoto doesn’t drop Kanji’s wrist, but he does quit pullin’ on it. “Of course not! I mean—” he pauses. “Well. I suppose... do you know what lycanthropy is?”

What.

“Licken…thrapy?”

“Lycanthropy.”

“Liecantherapy.”

“Lyc—” Whatever Naoto’s tryna get at, he gives up. “Fine,” he sighs. “Fine. We’re cleaning it, at least. There’s a first aid kit in here somewhere.” Kanji’s wrist released; Naoto moves to the hoity toity dresser taking up space in the corner. “Don’t move. I’m serious.”

Yeah, sure. “Anyways. About the wish...?”

“Oh, of course.” Naoto’s rifflin’ through the dresser now. “By all means, tell me what prompted you to ignore you’d been bitten by a wild animal.”

_Shouldn’t let the fox catch him sayin’ that_. “It lives near the shrine? I think. Could be some kinda…” Spirit? God? “Anyway, I think it protects the place? Generates revenue—” wait, shit, shop talk. “Profit— er, money, I mean—”

“I know what revenue is, Kanji-kun.”

Course he does. Naoto’s smart. “Uhh, cool! So it does that by—” Kanji waves his hands, “--grantin’ the wishes on the ema-plaques. The ones people leave around the shrine. Don’t know if _you_ believe in shit like that but…”

_THUNK!_

Naoto tugs his head out of the dresser, something else behind him. White-painted metal with FIRST AID printed in careful red letters. The first aid kit, Kanji thinks, or Naoto has weird taste in furniture. “…I see,” he muses. Digs through the box, says, “…and you know this because the fox approached you with one of the ‘ema-plaques’. Yes?”

“You got it. Didn’t wanna steal somebody’s prayer, not when I’m tryna be— but,” the fox wasn’t takin’ no for an answer. Woulda rubbed his nose in the dried-up donations bin if he’d stayed a second longer, too. “Ow. But I really think we should— OW!” OWCH. “NAOTO?! Warn a guy!”

Naoto huffs. Takes another swipe at Kanji’s wrist with an alcohol swab he prolly found when Kanji wasn’t looking. “…Apologies,” he says, like a liar.

Kanji rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, hyper-aware of Naoto, now winding a bandage carefully around the bite. “…right!” He’s gotta show him the— “lemme show you the…”

Digging into his back pocket, Kanji pulls the small wooden plaque out by the string. Naoto’s hands are free, done with the job, so he takes it when it’s offered.

“…Hm.” Then, reading aloud, “ _I’m afraid my son is shutting me out. He’s finally making new friends, and I’m happy for him. But I’ve only truly spoken with one of them. I don’t want to seem overbearing. But as his mother, I wish… that I could meet the people who made his life so much brighter_.”

“We gotta help.” He bites at his lip, tries to think of the right thing to say. “But I’m too stupid to figure out who the brat is. The lady’s son. So. Please?”

“…Kanji-kun,” Naoto replies, slowly. He’s flipped the plaque over, lookin’ at the thing from all angles. “Do you really not…?”

What.

“Ah. Nothing.” Naoto looks up from the board. Meets Kanjis eyes with the cool kinda focus Kanji admires about him to begin with. Says, “is your mother home?”

“I— what?” The question is so outta left field Kanji doesn’t know what to do with it, so he just sorta… looks at Naoto and hopes the other boy gets the question. Naoto does, maybe, ‘cept instead of making any sense he just snorts and Kanji is…?

“…I have a hunch,” Naoto says, “but we’ll need to get the team together.”

“Huh?”

“We need to meet at your place, Kanji-kun,” Naoto reiterates, all five feet of him in Kanji’s face. “Nowhere else.”

What the hell. And he’s the detective, _but_! “But Ma IS there!” And the shop’s not open now (Sunday hours) _but!!_ “I don’t wanna—”

“Do you want to solve this mystery or not?” Naoto looks him square in the eyes, dares him to flinch. “It’s a simple question.”

“…Yeah,” Kanji sighs, because. They gotta. “We gotta.”

“Call your mother, please.”

==

Ma’s happier about the whole thing then Kanji thought she’d be.

“You sure about this…?” Kanji asks. “I don’t wanna make trouble. We can…” but Naoto said it had to be their place. Tatsumi Textiles or bust. Not that he’d told Kanji why.

Kanji’s walkin’ and talking, keeping an easy clip down the road (Naoto’s legs are too short to really keep a lead). Across the cell line, Ma laughs. _“No trouble at all. Ah, I should warm up the tea…_ ”

“Tell your mother she doesn’t need to worry about refreshments,” Naoto calls over his shoulder. “Kujikawa-san is bringing snacks.”

Yeah, alright. “Naoto says Rise’s bringin’ food, so you don’t have to wor—” waitasecond. “Rise’s bringin’ food?!”

Naoto slows down a bit. Tugs his hat further down his eyes… not that Kanji could see his face from the back, anyway. “Yes, well. She’s bringing tofu.”

“—she’s bringin’ tofu,” Kanji tells Ma. Can’t go wrong with tofu.

“ _How kind of her,”_ Ma hums. “ _We’ll have to thank Kujikawa-san later.”_ A pause, and then, “... _But don’t let me steal your time._ ”

“Aw, you won’t, Ma—” but Ma’s already off the line.

Hm.

“Yo, Naoto!”

Naoto inclines his head, so Kanji speeds up the pace until they’re side-by-side on the road. Makin’ good time, too. Should be at the shop in another ten minutes or so. “Where we meetin’ the others? My place?”

“Yukiko-senpai and Chie-senpai should catch up to us soon,” Naoto replies. “Any minute now, by my estimations. Kujikawa-san might beat us to your shop… Teddie,” he appends, “will arrive when he wants to arrive.”

“What about Yu-senpai and Yosuke-senpai?”

“Tcht,” Naoto snorts. “Yu-senpai is distracting Hanamura. He might not make it.”

_Whatnow_? “Yosuke-senpai do somethin’ to piss you off…?” Kanji hazards. Not like Naoto to drop formalities, even if it was… well, Yosuke-senpai. Who was, more than anything else, _Yosuke-senpai._

“It’s not about him.” Naoto spares him a glance. “It’s about you.” A pause. “And the ‘wish’, of course. Yosuke- _senpai_ will only get in the way.”

Okay. Letting that one drop is easy, but, “Leader, though?”

“Yu-senpai can fend for himself.”

…True.

“And,” Naoto adds, “no one else could keep Hanamura distracted for that long— besides Teddie, but Teddie won’t stand to be left out.”

…Also true.

“Okay, I guess,” Kanji relents. Says--

“Kanji-kun!”

“Hey, you guys!”

Chie and Yukiko cut off the thought before he could finish it. The two of ‘em are meandering up the road behind them— almost hard to tell who’s who when they’re holdin’—

“We brought food!” Yukiko laughs. Neat-looking boxes stacked past her face, and thank everything that is good and holy she did not make that. He can tell. Smells too good, you can always tell when Yukiko tries to do whatever she does that _is not_ _cooking_.

“I asked around the inn’s kitchen,” Yukiko explains, “and when they heard I was going to a party…! It was very kind of them. They miiiiiight have gone a little overboard, though.”

“ _So. Much. Meat,_ ” Chie sighs, buried beneath her own towering pile of mysterious-but-not-lethal food. “And rice! Fish, pickled fruits, sweets, _meat!!_ Yukikooo, come on! The wait is KILLING me!”

“Wow.” Kanji eyes the two of them and their heavy packages, genuinely impressed. “…didn’t think you two had it in you. No offense!” he backpedals, “but— wait. Who's throwin’ a party?”

Yukiko just laughs, and brushes past both him and Naoto at the (loud, louder, _come ON Yukiko!)_ demand of Chie. Naoto gets in his way before Kanji can demand to know what in the hell is going on, eyes twinkling (twinkling!) mysteriously.

“You’ll understand everything soon,” Naoto tells him. “Will you trust me?”

That’s a hard question. “’S not that I don’t,” Kanji tries, “But…. I cause enough problems for Ma, Naoto. If you guys are throwin’ some kinda _party_ in her house--”

“—we are not going to cause problems for your mother,” Naoto kicks back. “Quite the opposite, in fact. Kanji-kun, will you _trust_ me?”

Hn.

Eurrrgh.

“…okay,” Kanji sighs. “I trust you. But you’re gonna tell me everything that’s going on! Got it?”

Naoto’s already jogging down the road, catching up to Yukiko and Chie as fast as his legs will let him. “I will!” he shouts, “now come on! We can’t leave Kujikawa-san and your mother waiting!”

Kanji scratches the back of his neck.

Sets off after him.

“Wait up--!”

===

“What the hell, Rise.”

“What?” Rise looks Kanji square in the eyes and pops another neon-red monstrosity into her mouth, like it wasn’t some kinda crime to mix… whatever that is, with truffles. Something spicy. ”’S good! And don’t call me— oh, Tatsumi-san! Want one?”

“How kind!”

“MA, DON’T,” Kanji yells, a second too late. Ma’s already chewin’ on the chocolate, her face twisted in-- delight?

“Not bad,” she hums. Turnin’ to Kanji, she adds, “you shouldn’t speak to your friend that way. Rise-san didn’t have to bring sweets, with the tofu. Or tofu at all... for that matter.” That said, she bows. Rise bows back, giggles.

Old hag.

Wait, shit. Bad Kanji! Bad!

...At least Naoto looks appropriately ill, watchin’ the disaster play out on one of the Tatsumi’s spare cushions. Kanji's pulled all of ‘em outta of storage and there’s still barely enough to go ‘round, even though Ted’s still (apparently) missing from the—

Well. The party.

Kanji stands apart from the others, hunched over a counter in their little cutaway kitchen. It’s gotta good view of the rest of the living-room, and he’s got a lotta stuff to _think_ about. Why Naoto thought throwin’ a party in his Mom’s house would solve the mystery of the wish, for one.

‘S weird, seein’ everyone goofin’ around in hisplace. Not that ‘s a bad apartment, or nothing— they have the whole second floor of the shop to themselves, and maybe it’s a little cramped sometimes, but it’s close to everything nice in town. It’s theirs!Has been for… hell, generations.

Now Rise’s schmoozing it up with Ma, and Naoto’s sittin’ on one of the cushions Kanji made when he was eight, and Yukiko and Chie are feedin’ each other sashimi from one of the dozens of boxes scattered around the room, and it’s—

Good?

“Kanji?”

And Ma’s having fun.

“Kanji!”

Wait, shit! “Ma?” Kanji shoves his hands in his pockets. “What’s up?” Her hands catch his eye first, twistin’ the hem of her kimono. Then, _her_ eyes, and she’s-- _“_ Ma!” Kanji yells, alarmed. “You okay??”

Ma’s eyes are watery, but that’s a smile on her face. She rubs at them, once, with the sleeve of her kimono. “Kanji,” she whispers. “Did you know…?”

Huh?

“Huh?”

Ma chuckles, but she’s still kinda sniffling and Kanji doesn’t know what to-- what to _do_? Crap. Fuck. “I was afraid, I suppose…” she continues. “Afraid that you weren’t... trusting me, with your friends. That you were… shutting me out.” She wraps her arms around herself, like she doesn’t know what else to do with ‘em. “They’re such good kids, Kanji. I’m glad that you met them.”

_Shutting her out…_

“Ack,” Kanji says.

_Shutting her… out…_

“…Always remember that I love you,” Ma tells him. Bends over to kiss his cheek, Kanji almost too blindsided to register it _._ “I’ll leave you two alone,” she adds-- it’s then that Kanji notices Naoto, loitering awkwardly at the vague barrier between Living Area and Kitchen. “Rise-san wants to hear some of my old biker stories, anyway. Aha, that was years ago...”

_Shutting… her… out…._

Wait. Some of Ma’s what?

“--thank you, Tatsumi-san,” Naoto says, before Kanji can even begin to process THAT. And then Ma is out of the kitchen and Naoto is standing next to him and the only thing he can _say_ is--

“Shutting her out…?”

Naoto nods, watching him carefully. “Do you understand?”

He’s stupid, but he’s not THAT stupid. Tired, suddenly, Kanji shoves his hands deeper in his pockets and slumps against the cabinets. “...How’d you know? That the wish was from Ma?”

Naoto digs around his jacket pocket. Pulls out the plaque. “Turn it around,” is all he says. Kanji takes the thing— all smooth wood and neat black calligraphy and of course that’s Ma’s handwriting, turns it around and

drops it.

“I’m so STUPID.”

“Well,” Naoto sighs. But that’s a smile on his face, like he’s laughin’ _with_ Kanji, and not at him. “You probably should have checked the back of the plaque for the return-address, yes.”

TATSUMI TEXTILES, clear as day.

“Stupid!”

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Interrupted yet again-- this time, from the front door. “Please, make yourself at home--!” Ma calls out, whooshing past the living area (where Kanji can see) to the entrance of the apartment.

The sound of a door clickin’ open. Voices, rustling, something like a cross between a cartoony _BOING_ and a sparkle emoji…“You guys didn’t START THE PARTY without MOI, did you? I’m bear-y disappointed in you all! Oh, oh, Yuki-chan, save some sashimi for--”

Ted.

“Consider Yosuke… distracted,” says another voice by the door.

Oh! Shit!

“Yu-senpai?” Naoto seems as surprised as Kanji-- his face folds into a rare (cool excellent amazing) open smile. “Kanji-kun,” he laughs. Holds out a hand. “Why don’t we show your mother some of that...” he pauses. “B-burning passion, of yours? Is that right?”

“U-uh, sure!” Silence. “Never say that again, though.”

“...I see.”

**Author's Note:**

> yeah naoto was arguing with twelve year old goro akechi on reddit. this piece is a bit more squashed then i might have written it for anything but a zine, but i'm generally quite proud of it!


End file.
